


The Book of Spice

by gxldendream



Category: Minecraft (Video Game), Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Aphrodisiacs, Blood Play, Blow Jobs, Breathplay, Clothed Sex, Dirty Talk, Edging, F/M, Hair-pulling, I’m new to tagging sorry LMAO, Manhandling, Overstimulation, Praise Kink, Prison Sex, Rough Sex, Smoking, Smut, Soft sex, degrading names, just a little bit, kind of? not really, thigh fucking
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2021-02-15
Updated: 2021-03-14
Packaged: 2021-03-15 14:54:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 6,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29437869
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gxldendream/pseuds/gxldendream
Summary: here lies all of my nsfw drabbles from my tumblr, gxldendream. i’ll be adding more chapters and tags as more come out! what’s currently tagged is what is in the work currently.
Relationships: Clay | Dream/Reader, Phil Watson | Philza/Reader, Technoblade/Reader, Wilbur Soot/Reader
Kudos: 756





	1. More? (Philza)

“Oh—! Phil... please.”

His gentle hold on your hips leaves you breathless, wanting nothing more than for him to just ruthlessly pound into you. He’s always so delicate with you, treating you like the perfect doll that you were. Phil is impossibly deep within you, brushing up against all the right spots that leave you aching for more. He treats you so good.

A soft groan emits from his throat, wings fluttering underneath him as you pick up the pace of your hips. It’s his favorite view—watching you bouncing on his cock without a care in the world. “My sweet girl… fuck, so gorgeous.” he praises breathlessly, making you keen response immediately. You now had him in a vice-like grip, your cunt fluttering around him in reaction to what he said.

A gasp leaves him in surprise, his hands sliding up to hold you by the waist. He studies your expression with a smug smirk. “Yeah?” You nod back instantly. He then plants his feet on the mattress and pulls you close to him, then begins to fuck into with vigor, the change in pace making you yelp. Your fingernails dig into his chest from the force, pathetic whines and moans leaving your lips with every thrust. “My perfect girl—so good for me, yeah?” A whine was only heard in response. 

You were gone. Absolutely gone. Your arm moves down to his back and searches aimlessly, the pads of your fingers now finding his wing. You run your nails between the soft feathers to tease him more as he carries on fucking you with purpose. His pace falters for a second, a low moan leaving him as you continue to play with the base of his left wing. He’ll be honest—it leaves him quivering. “O-Oh fuck… yes. Baby, don’t stop, yeah? Be my good girl and keep going.” he begs against your shoulder, now picking up the pace yet again. 

Now, he too was just as gone as you.


	2. Good For Me (Techno)

You start to tear up from the lack of air you’re receiving, staring up at Techno with pleading eyes as he holds you down on his cock. It’s a beautiful sight to him, watching you take it so easily down your throat. Techno believed that you were made for this; to take his cock in your mouth, and your mouth only.

He lets you pull up after a few more seconds, taking a stuttered breath as you finally get to breathe again. You go right back to what you were doing though, bobbing your head up and down at a moderate pace. It draws a low groan from Techno. “Fuck… look at you.” he whispers, gently taking your hair into his hand then wrapping it around his wrist. He’s kind enough to hold it back for you.

“You’re so good for me. Such a good fuckin’ girl… shit.” he softly pants out to you, making you whine in response. He has this sudden urge, and he acts upon it. He’s curious to see how you’d react. With his hand loosely holding onto your hair, he yanks you up suddenly, to which you moan at once you pop off his cock. His eyebrows quirk up in surprise. “Dirty girl… you liked that didn’t you?” you nod at him. Techno smiles at that.

“Come here and let me take care of you, baby.”


	3. Once More (Dream)

You were only here to visit him. It was only to have a quick chat—nothing more, nothing less. You’ve heard he was lonely, sad and desperate for any human interactions he could get. Sam leads you through a series of tests in order to reach the main cell, and a nervous feeling gnaws at your chest. You and Dream were close before he fell off the rails, wanting nothing but control, his motives driven by complete selfishness. It hurt you to see what he’s become. 

It wasn’t the Dream you knew, but maybe if you were to talk to him one last time, you’d be able to get him to snap out of it. Now that you were in the cell with him, alone, you had completely forgotten about any questions you had.

You take in a deep breath. “Drea—“

“I missed you.”

He interrupts you, which startles you. He sounded so… exhausted, happy even now that you’re here. “I’ve missed every part of you.” he whispers, which makes your eyebrow quirk up in confusion. Dream takes a few steps forward, reaching behind his head to undo the buckle that held his mask against his face. He pulled it away, letting it drop to the floor of the cell. He was now only a foot away from you. That look in his eyes distracts you—it’s an unreadable expression. You weren’t sure if it was out of love or something entirely different.

He moves forward until you’re up against the wall, his lips nearing the start of your jaw. “I missed the way your skin feels against mine… the way you call out my name, or how you beg for more.” he trails off, your chest and tightening in anxiety. His hands settle on your waist, pulling you closer towards him. “Will you let me feel you again? Please? I’ve missed you so much.”

Even if you took a long time to respond to all of that, you already said yes.

————

“Dream—! Fu—Fuck oh my god.” you stutter out through a whine, holding tightly around his shoulders as he roughly slams into you. His pace was erratic and uneven—so desperate. You both shared each other's breaths, staring into each other’s eyes as he fucks into you with earnest. 

He was ruthless, the pace surely going to leave you limping afterwards. “You like it that much? Shit…” he trails off, the grip on your hips tightening. You were shaking against him, because he hit every right place inside you. Each drag of his cock against your slick walls had you aching for more. Your fingernails dig into the skin of his shoulders, holding on as you brace yourself for your impending release.

He chuckles darkly, head now hiding in the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “Cumming so fast already? Fuck, you really did miss me.” he teases before speaking up again. “So dirty, baby… letting me fuck you against the wall.” he spits out, making you whine in response. 

His teeth drag across the skin of your collarbone, saying silently that you were his. “I won’t stop until you’re full, fucking dripping of my cum.” the filth that left his mouth leaves you breathless, moaning in response. He did stay true to his word. You were shaking, unable to stand as you sat on the floor. He was kind enough to help you slide your clothes back on, but it was difficult for you to even move. 

Sam would eventually have to come and get you, which is embarrassing.

“Next time you’re back, I’m taking my time with you, Princess.”


	4. My Loverman (Dream)

His hands were all over you, grasping at the swell of your hips to pressing the softest of kisses to your neck. He was so gentle with you, making you feel on cloud nine. Dream found that being gentle with you brought the prettiest of noises out of you, and he intends to do that until you ask for it harder.

He finally presses into you with a soft groan, holding you closer as you gasp out his name. “It’s okay baby… I’ve got you.” he assures you, giving your forehead a small kiss before beginning to build up a moderate pace. “Dream—Dream.” you sigh out his name lustfully, head tilting back to lay on the pillows. He slows down for a second, leaning down to kiss you. It’s soft, so delicate and filled with passion. He treats you like you're a doll, because if he were to handle you incorrectly, he felt as if you’d break. Of course, that wasn’t the case, but he didn’t want to take any risks. 

“I love you so much, you know that?”


	5. You're Mine (Wilbur)

“Fuck! Fu… ugh—!” 

Wilbur had your hair wrapped around his hand, tugging your head closer to him as he made your back arch into a beautiful curve. “Such a noisy slut… what would Schlatt think of you if he saw you like this, huh?” he asks, shoving his cock deeper within you. He reached an impossible depth within you, each thrust driving you even more insane than the last. You were just laying there, taking whatever Wilbur was giving to you. 

You really weren't sure how the two of you ended up like this, but you weren't complaining. “Wi—Wil… I can’t, I can’t—ah!” You plead, finger nails digging into the wood of the desk below you. You need something to ground yourself with, but you realistically have nothing. You're already fucking gone. Wilbur is good at this—so exceptionally good that you can barely form a sentence. 

Wilbur laughs, that familiar cocky smile painting his lips as he slows down for a moment. He lets you catch your breath for a second, but the second you do, he fucks into you harder. The roughness causes you to choke on a loud moan. “Fuck… yeah, take it. Mmh—good girl.” Wilbur leans down over your body, releasing your hair as he practically traps you under his weight. 

His hands grip onto your wrists, sliding them up out in front of you as he pins you to the desk. You whine pathetically at the angle change, not used to how impossibly deep he was going this time. Your eyes roll back, face pressed up against the wood as you let out nothing but choked up cries and moans. 

Wilbur rests his cheek against the back of your neck. “God, look at you. My fuckin’ whore. Yeah? You like my dick that much?” he asks through heavy pants. Your whole body flinched as he brushed up against that sweet spot within you, legs shaking as you tried to keep yourself upright. “Nngh—! Wil! I’m g… uhh fuh—fuck!” You shout suddenly, that build up in your lower stomach suddenly snapping. You were surprised at the force of it, your whole body still quivering from how hard it hit you.

Wilbur still kept going, regardless if you started to cry. You sobbed and sniffed, arching your back as you attempted multiple times to move away. “It—! It hurts! Puh—please I can’t… I can’t.” you sob, yet Wilbur only chuckles.

He keeps you pinned to the desk, his pace only going harder and faster than before. You almost passed out from the intensity of your next orgasm, and Wilbur soon follows after with a low moan. “Look at you… all fucked out for me. So fuckin’ dirty.” Wilbur heaves, his lips skimming across the skin of your upper back.

Even if you were tired, absolutely exhausted from being fucked so roughly, Wilbur started up yet again. 

“One more time before Schlatt comes back. I’ll show that ‘friend’ of yours what’s mine.”


	6. Good For Us (Dream)

“God, look at you.”

Dream focuses on you seated between his legs, eyeing at the way you stayed suctioned on his cock. A low groan leaves his throat, tilting his head back as he relishes in the sensation of your tongue laving over the head of his dick. You were behaving for the time being, enjoying the way Dream looked. You stared up at him through your lashes, hollowing out your cheeks to draw out that extra moan before pulling back up. Dream’s hand threads through your hair, gripping on before forcing you back down. 

You choke around him, not expecting the sudden action. You stay there under his hold, all before swallowing. You would admit that you do like it when Dream is just a bit rough with you, even if it were to cut off your air supply momentarily. A shuddering sigh leaves his lips, leaning his head back yet again. “Jesus, your mouth works wonders.” he grunts out, leaving you to moan around him.

The vibrations made him hiss, bottom lip now caught between his teeth as he guides your head up and down on his cock. “My fucking slut. You love my dick, huh?” Dream asks in a rasp, lifting his head back up to watch you. You choke on a whine at the degrading name, nodding in response. You really did love it—if there was an option to do this every day to please Dream like this, you'd take it over anything in the world. 

Dream laughs deeply, moaning quietly afterwards. “Damn right. You be—belong on your knees for me and me only.” he mumbles in a rather possessive tone, “choking on my cock like the slut you are. I bet you want everyone to watch what you can do, hm?” he continues on, to which you moan at. The hurtful words and dirty talk is what keeps you going, one of your hands moving down to touch yourself. A broken whimper left you at realizing how sensitive and wet you were, the movement on Dream’s cock faltering for a second as you tried to do two tasks at once.

With a rough tug, you were pulled up by your hair. You keened at the pain, a heavy blush set on your cheeks as you pant quietly, embarrassed with yourself at how much you really like your hair to be pulled on. “Please… please fuck me… I’ve been really g-good, yeah?” You beg shakily, only to yelp as Dream pulls on your hair again, forcing your head back to expose your neck which draws another whine to leave you. “Good girls don’t beg. They stay quiet.” Dream muttered, tone calm and lustful. You obeyed, now keeping quiet just like he said, even if you wanted to plead for more. His other hand comes up and grips your jaw, tracing your bottom lip slowly before you open your mouth. 

You know exactly what’s up; Dream kisses you feverishly, tongue running along your inner cheek. He wants to know everything about what your body reacts to, as well as how you taste. He wants to know all of it. His hand leaves your hair and slides down to grip at your waist, helping you up onto his lap. Dream's fingernails gently dig into your skin underneath your shirt, drawing a moan out from your throat as he continues to kiss you.

“Fuck, you’re incredible.” Dream sighs out against your lips, dragging his hands up your back, bunching up your shirt along the way. Surprisingly, he’s fully aware that someone was standing underneath the threshold to the room you were both in. He lets out a low hum, lips coming in contact with your jaw as he stares at the figure from across the room. “Don’t just stand there.” he calls out to Wilbur, who had suddenly walked into something he shouldn’t have. You still for a moment at the mention of Wilbur, a look of embarrassment crossing your features. Your face is now flushed red, lips puffed up from being kissed and your shirt now bunched up to show off the perfect arch of your back. 

"Care to join us?"


	7. Tear Into Me (Wilbur)

Your fingertips run along the worn leather adorning your shoulders, eyeing the dyed material out of the corner of your eye. It did need to be repaired—it had grown awfully tattered at the ends of the jacket, a few holes covering the cloth and stitching sticking out in a few places. Nonetheless, he had a good eye for coats.

You’ve always loved Wilbur’s choice in style, and now that you have the time and chance, you finally slipped on that famous jacket he always wore. It felt very nice to wear—very heated and kept you warm. There was a button missing, so you sadly weren’t able to fully button it up. You left it open for now, liking the way it felt just a bit heavy and big on you. 

As you tilt your head to the side, trying to gently smooth out the black dyed leather on the shoulders of the jacket, you feel something brush up against your ear. 

“You could have just asked, you know.”

You jump, stepping away from the sudden deep voice that shook you to your core. Wilbur stood there with a smug smile on his perfectly kissable lips. You watch as his eyes slowly trail down your body, admiring the way you look in his jacket. He silently licks his lips, and your cheeks heat up at the blatant staring. 

He steps closer to you, his right hand coming up as if he was going to fix the collar of the coat, yet he grips tightly and yanks you forward, flush against his front. You gasp at his roughness, stilling as his lips come in contact gently with your cheek, his own pressing up against yours. “Should I punish you for not asking permission to wear it?” he suddenly asks against your skin, making your skin tingle in delight. 

Your hands grasp at his shirt, holding on as his hands then move down to slide up the length of your back. It felt so nice to be touched, let alone by Wilbur himself. You’re aware he can make you feel good.

It seemed reasonable—the punishment, but you had no idea what he had in mind. If only you knew.

Minutes later, Wilbur has you seated on his lap, sitting in a rather comfortable chair, one hand holding lowering you down on his cock. He keeps an eye on the way he enters you so nicely—such a tight and perfect fit for him. “I know you love this don’t you, huh sweetheart?” his other hand held you by your throat, silently threatening you that he could squeeze at any second. For now, it was just to steady you on his lap. 

A soft whine leaves your throat, and he slides down in the chair a bit more. Suddenly, he snaps his hips up to fill you up completely, and a yelp exits you. Wilbur lets out a deep chuckle, then pulls you in close by the collar of the jacket, resting his head against yours as he pounds up into you all of a sudden. The change in pace makes your eyes water.

“Oh—Oh my god! Wilb—Wilbur—!” you squeak, your fingers digging into his clothed shoulders for some sort of support. He was so desperate to have you right then and there, and insisted that you kept the jacket on. His jacket. “That’s right… good girl. Fucking moan for me.”

His fingernails made harsh crescent shapes into the skin of your hips, the pain making you whimper in return. He kisses you, teeth catching your bottom lip as he teases you for a moment. The immense pleasure you felt was now added with a mixture of pain, because the second you felt his teeth suddenly bite into your bottom lip, you moaned into his mouth.

The slight taste of metal hits both of your tongues, and Wilbur moans at it. “Sorry my dear—shit. I couldn’t help myself. You feel so fucking good… so tight for me and me only, fucking split on my cock like the wh—whore you are.” he’s in love with the way you look on his lap, riding his cock like the good girl you were. 

Needless to say, you’ll definitely be stealing his jacket more often.


	8. Sensitivity (Philza)

Your thumbs gently dug into Phil’s shoulders, the action drawing out a soft groan from his throat. You’re aware of how many knots he has in his back, which is why you’re here to help. Well, you don’t think you can continue much further if he keeps letting out noises that make your stomach churn in arousal.

He tilts his head back a bit, and you notice that his eyes are closed. “Feel good?” you ask, and he hums lowly at you in response, practically melting in your hands. Slowly, you move your hands down to his upper back, minding the base of his wings before pushing your thumbs into his soft skin. 

Phil only let you see him like this—only you. He suddenly flinched as your fingers glided over a certain sensitive area, and he took in a stuttered breath. “Ah—“ he stopped himself before he let out much of anything, and relaxed as your thumbs moved to a different area on his back. 

“Fuck, you’re good at this.” he whispered, and you let out a soft laugh. You’re aware you are. 

An idea suddenly popped up in your head, and the thought of it made you smirk. He needs more reasons to relax, right? Your fingernails come in contact with the base of his wings, and he tenses up. “Sweethea—oh fuck…” he moans, quivering at the sensation of your nails dragging against his feathers. 

“He—Hey… baby—oh god.” Phil nearly whines, surprised that you’re actually touching him this sensually. Well, the actions weren’t as sexual, but damn, did it make him feel good. You smile, leaning close to press a gentle kiss to the middle of his back. “Yeah? You like this?” you ask him, and he barely nods.

You continue to touch the base of each wing, running your fingernails through the soft feathers, now just enjoying the way he sounds with each touch and movement. 

Your hands sneakily close around the bases of each wing before you gently yank towards you, and he lets out the most pathetic, broken moan you’ve ever heard. “Pl—Please… it feels so good. Baby, please. Don’t… don’t stop now.” he begged to you, shivering in your grasp. He moved back closer to you, as if you would pull away and leave him alone. 

Who are you to deny that sweet pleasure he desired?


	9. Wrong Potion (Wilbur)

His head was spinning, his mind hazy and filled with different kinds of emotions he’s never felt before. Wilbur’s eyes trail over to you, where you were waiting for one of the potions to finally stop brewing. 

Next to him was an empty potion bottle, which he had just drank moments ago. He wanted to make sure that most of the potions did work, except for the ones that would cause a lot of damage. 

The two of you had been making potions all day, strengthening them and making them last much longer for the upcoming battle all of you were going to go through. 

Wilbur knows you have extensive knowledge on all kinds of potions, and how to properly brew them, so he stuck with you, wanting to learn more. 

Wilbur wasn’t sure why he was feeling this way—was fire resistance supposed to make you feel hot? He pulled at the collar of his shirt, gulping at how warm he suddenly became. 

This was really unusual. What was wrong with him? His other hand scrambled to the empty bottle he drank from, his eyes frantically searched for the label. 

Sadly, he didn’t find one. So, what the hell did he drink? His lower stomach suddenly felt as if it was on fire, and he huffed at the sensation, leaning over the counter as if he was in pain. 

It wasn’t painful, per se, but it definitely made him shake. He was trying so hard to not collapse to the floor, because the feeling made his legs wobble.

You set down the three bottles of potions you had finally finished making, then turn to check up on Wilbur. What you didn’t expect was for him to be resting up against the counter, his hands balled into fists as if he was in pain. “Wilbur? Are you okay?” you ask, moving up next to him. 

Had he burnt his hand? It was pretty common in potion making, but this seemed to be a lot more painful than just a small burn to the hand. 

You watch as he reaches towards an empty bottle, then slid it towards you. “What is this?” hell, even his voice was raspy and low. Was he really in this much pain?

You gave him a long, concerned look before picking up the bottle. There were a few droplets left inside, so you bring it up to your nose and take a small whiff. 

A strong scent of cinnamon and honey hits your nose, and you wince, setting the bottle back down. It suddenly hits you. Did he just drink the aphrodisiac? 

You had accidentally made one last week while testing a few things out, yet you being the forgetful person you are, you forgot to label it. It looks very similar to fire resistance, color wise. Was he trying to test them out?

“l… shit. You drank all of it?” you mumble, your hand coming to rest on his upper back. You could feel him shiver from your touch. He mumbles out your name weakly, beginning to softly pant from how hot he felt all over. 

Wilbur shakily stands up and shrugs off his jacket, haphazardly throwing it onto the counter before looking over at you. 

“What was in the bottle?” he asks you yet again, his voice lower than you expected it to be. You swallow thickly, growing a little intimidated under his darkened gaze. “An aphrodisiac. I… I forgot to label it. Fuck—sorry Wilbur. It’ll last a while.” you apologize to him, and he lets out a sharp scoff. Of course it was. 

Suddenly, he hissed at the feeling of his cock throbbing against the material of his jeans. His cheeks were a bright red, both embarrassed from how this was affecting him and how he looks in front of you.

You suggest to him that you can help make it feel a little less worse than how he feels right now, and being that he’s influenced by the potion, he immediately agrees.

Now, you have him laying on the couch that was in the corner of the room, you riding him slowly as for him to get used to how everything feels. It isn’t like he’s done this before—he’s fucked many people in the past. 

He only asks for you to go slow because of how sensitive he was to everything. Every touch, movement and words that come from you make him moan.

Wilbur’s fingers dig into the soft skin of your hips, helping you bounce on his cock slowly. He couldn’t even begin to describe how fucking good he felt. 

You were so tight around him, not granting him any mercy as you fucked yourself on his cock. “Fuck… fuck… it—it feels so good. You feel so good.” he whines out to you, panting and moaning like some bitch in heat. 

You smirk at how responsive he was, gently running your nails across his chest. He keens at the feeling, bucking his hips up into you. 

That gives you more of an opportunity to grind down harder, absolutely loving the way he gasps and moans. 

Usually, he was much more calm and reserved, hot headed too, but watching him come undone because of this was somewhat rewarding. 

You were suddenly caught off guard when he pulls you down flush to his chest, then begins to fuck up into you at a rapid and sloppy speed. 

Wilbur moans your name out shakily, warning you that he’s about to cum. So soon? “W—Wilbur—! Wait! Oh fuck…” you moan out. You’re aware that he’ll need to do this a few more times, but you were surprised at how fast he was about to cum. 

Seconds later, he finished inside you with a guttural moan, panting hard against the crown of your head. He’s whimpering thank yous into your hair, as if he was too embarrassed to look at you. You could understand that—you made this sad mistake the first time you tested the potion yourself. 

You were just happy you could help him out.


	10. Hold Your Breath (Wilbur)

Your lungs burn—they ache for that sweet air that you’re denying yourself to inhale. You were just as competitive as him, so you were just as determined to win. With tears in your eyes, you hold in that drag of Wilbur’s cigarette in confidence.

Wilbur stares at you with a coy smile, pocket watch in hand. His eyes flick down to the ticking dial. Forty-five seconds. Not bad. You let out a huff of smoke, taking in deep breaths afterwards. Occasionally, you cough from the dull burning sensation in your lungs. Cigarette smoke wasn’t healthy to hold in, but you can’t help but cough. 

You have to win.

“Look at you… you’re pretty when you cry. Forty-five seconds by the way.” he murmurs teasingly to you, hand reaching up to wipe a stray tear from your cheekbone. You shake your head to get away from his hand, snatching the pocket watch from his hand. “Shut up. Your turn.” you laugh lightly, stopping to look down at the time. 

He takes in a large drag of the cigarette that was in his other hand, and begins to hold his breath. You take note of where you started the time for him, and glance up at Wilbur. There was some emotion in his eyes that you couldn’t quite grasp at. Did it hurt for him?

You smile, now even more confident than before. He seemed to be struggling a bit, face beginning to turn red as his eyes also teared up. You glance back down at the watch—Thirty-five seconds. Shit, it looks like he’s going to beat you. 

His hand suddenly comes in contact with your thigh, which forces you to gaze up at Wilbur. He’s close to you, nose brushing up against yours. You’re frozen, unable to look away from those captivating brown eyes of his. Wilbur’s hand that was on your thigh snakes up to your lower back, pulling you closer until your lips finally met.

Abruptly, he roughly pulls you closer by the back of your head with his other hand, pocket watch forgotten on the floor next to you. A soft noise involuntarily leaves you, your hands grasping at the tattered leather that adorn his shoulders. You feel it—the smoke invading your mouth and entering your lungs.

You voice your protests with a soft whine, which Wilbur takes as an invitation to continue further with what he was doing. His slender fingers move up under your shirt, feeling up your skin with a gentle hum. The both of you were now holding your breath, sharing the smoke that Wilbur had been holding in beforehand. 

You tap his shoulder, as if telling him to pull away. You couldn’t breathe—you felt lightheaded. Wilbur only smiled against your lips, kissing you harder after that. A whimper sits at the back of your throat, but you don’t have the air to even speak. After a few more seconds, he does pull away. Smoke fades up into the air, lingering for a moment before disappearing completely.

He was still very close, so close that he could feel your heart race against his chest. You two were panting, gazing at each other with a lustful glare. “Atta girl… I knew you could do it.” he softly pants out, then blindly reaches for the pocket watch. He glanced down to see that he made it past the one minute mark. 

He chuckles and sends you that signature smirk of his.

“I win.”


	11. Oh, Darling (Wilbur)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> LMAO—my tumblr feed is all about simpbur, so i had to write something for him,, so enjoy :D

His cheek was resting on top of your left thigh, his eyes closed tightly as he focused on the pressure that was on his cock. Wilbur was panting hard against the material of your sweatpants. “My—My love… oh please—!” he stutters out, flinching at your foot pushing harder against his leaking cock.

He’s asked for this so many times—to be on his knees before you, doing whatever you pleased. Wilbur is aware that he’ll slowly lose that self control of his, because he just has to touch you. Your skin is so soft against his hands, fingertips running along your inner thighs as he tries to remember what you feel like for future imaginations.

Your fingers gently run through his messy brown hair, all before yanking his head up and back. He whines, exhausted and desperate eyes now gazing back up at you. You’re aware he wants more than just this. Wilbur was shaking in your grasp, hands placed on your knees for some sort of stability. He was so desperate for a release. Anymore teasing and he’s certain he’ll lose it. 

“I’m—fuck—! Sweetheart... please I’m close… please please.” he begs to you in a harsh whisper, which only makes you smile in return. You slide your hand down from his hair to cup his cheek, and he leans into the warmth of your palm. Your touch practically melts him—he’d do anything to have your hands anywhere on his body. 

“I know you are, baby… you’re such a good boy for me, you know? Are you sure you deserve it?” you ask him with a warm grin, mischief hidden on your lips. Wilbur nearly whines at the sudden praise from you, raising his hips up against the ball of your foot to seek for that extra friction. “Fu—Fuck please—I’ve been so good for you… please.”

You think for a moment as you continue to lightly apply pressure every so often to his aching cock. Maybe you should, maybe you should not. Wilbur has been good for you since the beginning, but it’s so fun to watch him fall apart and beg for you more. 

Your thumb traces his plump bottom lip, dragging it down slowly as you wonder what your next move will be. Wilbur slowly opens his mouth until your thumb is gently touching the tip of his tongue, then you decide to push it in. You don’t even need to ask. He’s already so compliant with you. He runs his tongue along the pad of your finger, eyes fluttering as he attempts to coerce you into letting him cum. Wilbur knows exactly what he’s doing.

Well, maybe just a few more minutes of teasing wouldn’t be so bad, huh? “You’re filthy, Wilbur. I don’t know if dirty boys like you should be able to cum. Maybe if you beg a little more, then—“

He moves suddenly, which makes you flinch. Despite him being on his hands and knees all the time just for you, he’s genuinely a very scary individual. Wilbur quickly snatched your wrists into his hands and pushed you back against the mattress that you were seated on, then proceeded to pin you to it. 

While he stares you down with a dark and lustful look, he lets your wrists go then sits back. Manhandling you, he moves you to lay on your side, hands grasping at your thighs as he pushes them together. He slowly slides his cock between the soft skin of your inner thighs, which made you hum in confusion and arousal.

It surprised you at how fast he suddenly began to fuck your thighs, now moaning and groaning above you. It’s almost like he was teasing himself, not wanting himself to be inside you just yet. Maybe he thinks he hasn’t deserved it just yet. He’s never done this before either; ignore your orders. He was hunched over slightly, staring at you with a strong look of desire. You know he wants to be deep inside you, but he can’t. Not yet.

He bucks his hips forward with a few soft pants, his hands now holding on a bit tighter to your thighs. “I bet you feel so… s-so good—you were fucking made for me, sweetheart.” he whimpers out, his pace picking up as he continues to talk. 

You struggle to keep your thighs together, because all you really want now is for him to be fully seated inside you. You were honestly still surprised he was acting this way. “I’ll be so deep… I’ll get you nice and—and sticky inside, then fuck it back into you until you’re completely stuffed… oh, you’re perfect. So perfect, darling.” 

Before you have time to process anything he said, Wilbur’s pace stutters, and he lets out a soft whine. You could feel the front of your thighs grow warm from his cum that coated your skin and the sheets below you. You’re not going to degrade him for how spontaneous that was, and how desperate he was to get to his impending release.

You knew you should have let up on the teasing, but you couldn’t help yourself. His hands slowly let go of your thigh, and then you begin to pull him close, your nails gently running across his back to comfort him and bring him down from his high.

He’s addicted to you, and after that, you’ve now grown attached to him.


End file.
